


It's a Wonderful Life

by hollowworldhope



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angels are Dicks, Blood, Childbirth, M/M, Mpreg, Temporary Character Death, graphic birth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-13
Updated: 2013-07-13
Packaged: 2017-12-19 07:41:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/881221
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hollowworldhope/pseuds/hollowworldhope
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They took out the ghost, everything should have been fine. That's what Dean thought as he ignored the oncoming contractions. He couldn't have been more wrong. Everything was not fine. Set during 4x17.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's a Wonderful Life

**Author's Note:**

> This is set during 4x17 "It's a Terrible Life" except Dean is preggers. Sam and Dean still don't know who they are and believe that they are both office employees. This takes place right after the two of them gank Sandover.

Sam dropped the burning gloves and the spirit of Sandover burst into flames. He covered his eyes hearing the shriek fading along with the sudden light, then they were once again alone. He cautiously looked over his arm to where Dean had been forcefully thrown into the opposite wall.

“Dean!”

The pregnant businessman remained on the floor a few yards from Sam. He was trying to get to his knees, but suddenly curled in on himself as a wave of pain hit him. His head and back throbbed from impacting the concrete, but this pain was different. This was sudden and strong. It made the rest of his aches fade leaving only this. He didn't recall hitting his belly but everything had happened so fast. One minute he was aiming a crowbar at the ghost of Sandover, the next he was flying into a wall.

“Oh god…” he moaned immediately thinking the worst. He was going to lose his baby, but as soon as the wave of clenching pain hit him it receded. It had only lasted a few good seconds but left him out of breath. He hadn’t even noticed Sam taking his hands trying to get him to look at him.

“Dean! Shit!” He was searching his pockets to find his cell phone but it wasn’t there. He needed to call an ambulance.

Dean looked up, much to Sam’s relief, meeting his new ghost hunting buddy’s eyes.

“You did it?” he asked, motioning for some help getting up.

“Yea. You sure you should get up? You hit the wall pretty hard…”

Dean brought a hand to his belly and felt the frantic kicking of his little one. He was fine, stressed but fine.

“Kicker’s a little freaked out, but I’m just sore.”

He wobbled a bit, but made sure to keep a firm grip on Sam and the wall. His balance seemed off, his belly felt heavier than before.

“You sure…”

“Jeez, last time I checked I’d just met you yesterday.”

Sam’s puppy dog look turned into a glare taking Dean aback.

“Fine! If it’ll make you feel better I’ll go by the doctor tomorrow. Happy?”

Sam stopped his glowering, but kept a firm hand on the man’s arm.

“Oh c’mon, man. I’m achy, I’m tired, I’m _eight_ months pregnant and I wanna get home. Now, c’mon!” Dean pulled his arm free, using it to support his large eight month belly, and started to stride purposefully towards the elevator.

“Uh…Dean?” Sam tried to call his new ‘friend’ cautiously, not wanting to be attacked by rabid hormones.

“What?!?”

“We should probably take the stairs.”

“And why is that?” If words could set fire to the air, those certainly would have.

“Because this…” he waved to his yellow polo, which was still drenched in blood, “was caused by the elevator.”

Dean blinked but changed his direction to the stairwell regardless. He hadn’t hated stairs before his ‘predicament’ but holy crap did he hate them now.  He was a pretty fit guy but hauling an extra thirty plus pounds around his usually trim midsection put an incredible strain on his back. So walking down about thirty flights of stairs wasn’t going to be the highlight of his evening.

Sam couldn’t help but smile as he watched the blond waddle away. He’d noticed that Dean was annoyed easily, but he thought it was cute. He stood there trying to stop smirking before following the pregnant man. Sam didn’t think Dean would find his walk even half as amusing as he did.

Dean made it to the stairwell door but had to stop. One hand was against the metal surface and the other remained on his, once again hard, belly. He’d shut his eyes and his breathing had sped up. More sweat appeared on his already damp brow and he slowly bent to lean his head against the cold surface. Whatever this was…it hurt…

“Dean…” Sam didn’t touch the tense man, but stood cautiously next to him.

“I’m…fine…” he grit out. “Just…just gimme a minute….” He felt his belly clench even tighter, and kept his hand against it waiting for the taught skin to break. This pain was longer than the last, but it too did have an end. He let out the breath he’d been holding and cautiously straightened. The baby seemed to have moved way lower somehow and he felt it’s body resting along the base of his belly. He cradled his arm underneath it.

“Sonava bitch that hurt,” he gasped. Wiping his hand across his face he gave a nervous chuckle. “Maybe…maybe I should go see a doctor tonight.”

Sam took in how pale Dean was, the sheen of sweat on his skin didn’t help his appearance any. He was trying to stand up straight but was slightly bent as he hugged his huge stomach. His breathing was more of a panting, and he looked exhausted.

“I’ll drive you,” he said as he pushed open the door to the stairwell.

“You sure?” Dean asked walking out onto the landing.

“It’s no problem. I don’t want you driving or getting into one of those taxis.”

“Thanks.” Dean took hold of the rail tightly and slowly began to descend towards the first flight of stairs. His swollen ankles didn’t appreciate the lack of elevators.

Sam wasn’t used to taking one flight of stairs at a time, after all he was constantly at the gym. So it was hard for him to slow his pace to fit Dean’s. After awhile it seemed that Dean could only take one step at a time before stopping for a breath. He’d undone his tie so it was hanging freely from his neck and the first few buttons of his shirt were open. His breathing echoed around the concrete space and sweat dripped down his nose. They’d gone down maybe a five flights when the pain returned with a vengeance.

He’d been midstep when it gripped him, _hard_. This was the worst pain yet and he almost let go of the railing to fold in on himself. He let out a strangled cry of pain and panic as he struggled to keep his balance.

“Sam!” he let out a harsh gasp, not having any pride to prevent him from calling out.

His eyes were clenched shut and he couldn’t help it anymore, he let go of the rail. He felt himself falling for an instant before strong hands caught him and lowered him gently onto the stairs. He looked up seeing Sam’s panicked face hovering above his. He opened his mouth to say something but it was cut off by another moan as the pain ran through his middle.

It felt like an eternity but it slowly began to lessen.  That’s when he realized that Sam had been holding both his hands and was telling him to breathe. He let out the air he didn’t remember taking in and gasped trying to regain his lost oxygen. He felt one of Sam’s hands run across his face wiping away some of the sweat that was dripping.

“I think…I think you’re in labor.”

Dean could only stare wide eyed at the man holding his hand.

“We need to get you to a hospital.”

He nodded slowly. That last contraction took a lot out of him. His mind felt fuzzy for some reason.

“Dean!” Sam’s voice brought him back to reality; he hadn’t noticed that he had been drifting off. “You with me?”

“Yea.” Dean blinked a few times and shook his head trying to pull himself up. “It’s just…too early. The baby’s too small. I…I can’t do this. Not now…”

Sam took in the fear on Deans face and helped him up. “Everything will be fine. We’ll get you to the hospital and they’ll take care of ‘kicker’ and everything _will_ be fine.” The sureness and determination in the tall man’s eyes was just enough to make Dean believe him.

“Now c’mon, we still have about twenty flights to go.”

From that point on Sam kept one hand on Dean at all times in case he lost his balance again. It was slow going but it was their only option at this point. They’d gone down only three flights when Dean stopped and grabbed his stomach again, this time not even trying to stifle his groan.

“Sammy!” his ragged voice echoed in all directions. His knees gave out almost immediately and Sam lowered him, ignoring the nickname he hated.

“Dean, breathe! Breathe!”

It didn’t seem like any thing he was saying was getting through. Dean was bent over his belly grasping it tightly. Sam was in front of him keeping him from somersaulting down the stairs and trying anything to get him to look at him.

“Something’s…wrong…” Dean grit out not opening his eyes. He barely got that out before he let out another cry, this one more of a scream than anything else. Dean felt a rush of liquid from between his legs. His water broke, but there was a strong smell of copper. The pain lessened a bit, making it possible for him to open his eyes. Panting he put his fingers to the liquid; they came back red. “Oh god…”

Sam watched as Dean’s already pale face seemed to get even whiter. They needed help. He had no idea what to do in this situation. He was pretty much the worst person to have around in this type of emergency.

“We need to get you to a hospital,” he said, stating the obvious.  He once again put his hands into empty pockets looking for his cell phone. “Shit! Dean…hey, stay focused.” Dean had spaced out looking at his hands waiting for the pain to recede as it had before. This time the pain wasn’t going away, it just lessened. “Dean, do you have you’re phone?”

Dean took one hand away from his middle and pat his pant pockets. They were empty. He shook his head vigorously.

“Shit! Ok…” Sam said trying to calm himself down. He didn’t need to be freaking out right now. “Ok…I’m going to find a phone and…”

“No!” Dean said loudly, panicking. “Don’t leave me alone.”

“But…”

“You can’t…I…” Dean bit his lip and a drop of blood was spotted.

Sam watched the man in pain try and keep some of his composure by keeping the tears in the corners of his eyes at bay. Now what could they do?

“Well, we can’t just sit here.”

Dean looked up at the sign on the wall stating which floor they were on. They couldn’t have stopped a more convenient one.

“My office is on this floor. We can call someone there.”

“Ok, can you stand?”

“Yea…just…gimme a hand…”

Sam grabbed Dean’s elbows firmly and hauled him up, having him lean against his strong frame for a few moments until he caught his balance. The walked slowly, but both were determined to get there as quickly as possible. They took it one step at a time. Dean cradling his heavy stomach and clutching Sam’s white knuckled hand, while Sam gripped Dean’s bent elbow.

They stopped once due to another angry contraction. Sam helped Dean remain upright until it passed and they kept their pattern of: Breathe, Step, Stop, Exhale, Repeat.

It seemed like an hour until they reached the darkened door, and Sam had to fumble in Dean’s pocket for his key. The dark room was slightly glowing due to the city lights beaming from outside. Sam hit the light switch and hurried to get Dean over to the black leather sofa against the wall.

Dean slowly sank into the comforting surface as Sam lifted his legs gently, trying to make him a bit more comfortable. Dean leaned his head back, panting in exertion.

Once he was situated Sam rushed to the phone on the desk, but upon listening into the receiver he didn’t hear anything. He pushed the receiver frantically without any change. No dial tone or beep of the 911 being dialed. Nothing…

“Dean, the phone lines are out.”

Dean registered what Sam was saying, but couldn’t respond as he gritted his teeth in pain again. “Shit! Argh!”

Sam watched as more dark liquid seemed to soak into the black fabric of Dean’s pants. The whiteness of Dean’s skin stood out even more.

Sam looked around for anything that could help, and spotted a book in the corner of the CEO’s desk. “Male Pregnancy Necessities,” was the title. He quickly picked it up and turned to the section on emergencies looking for anything that could explain the excess bleeding so early on in labor.

Finding a passage that looked like the symptoms fit, he hurried to Dean’s side.

“Is the baby still kicking?”

Dean seemed to have been released from his contraction and had his head leaning back on the armrest panting heavily. He gave a slight nod.

“Uh-huh…”

Sam quickly put his hands on the bulging belly.

“Where?”

Dean motioned to either side of this belly, before his hands dropped once again. Sam moved his hands to those spots and indeed felt strong frantic kicking along the side of the tense flesh.

“I think I know what’s wrong,” he said paling.

Dean looked up at him.

“You’re baby is breech. The fall triggered labor before it could turn properly. It seems like it’s lying sideways. It…it can’t move down this way.”

If he had anymore energy Dean would’ve been frantic, but all he could ask was, “So now what?”

Sam was scanning through pages to a different section of the book.

“Well…I could try to flip it?” he said, showing Dean a page with a diagram of how to try and turn stubborn babies.

“Then get to flipping.” Dean attempted to straighten a bit by pushing himself up.

“I’m going to take your pants off and lift your shirt.” He swallowed. “It’s going to hurt.” Blunt, honest.

“It already hurts. Do you have any other options?”

“For here and now?”

“Yea.”

 Sam swallowed. “No.”

“Then get on with it already.”

Sam quickly undid Deans' belt and unbuttoned his pants trying to be as quick and efficient as possible. He didn’t want to freak this stranger out anymore than he was. They’d just met not even a full 24 hours prior.  He whipped off the bloody trousers but left the stained boxers on, no need to remove them just yet. He unbuttoned the last few buttons of his shirt and left his stomach exposed to the air. It was covered with a thin sheen of sweat as well and Sam could see a few frantic kicks coming from the right side of Deans belly.  He gently pressed back trying to calm the infant down. Everyone was scared, even the little one who shouldn’t know the feeling this early in it’s existence.

It took a few painful tries, but with Sam’s firm persuasive grip he managed to convince the baby to turn. One hand was pressing downward on the baby’s head and the other was pushing upwards by the feet. It was like trying to spin a wheel. Dean tried to prevent himself from crying out, but Sam knew he was causing him pain. He almost forced himself to stop when he felt a surge of movement from the little one inside.

“Yes…” Dean gasped as another rush of blood, less this time, made its appearance. “That’s right…she’s in the right place…oh god…”

Another contraction came right at that moment, and Dean felt his the baby surge quickly down into his birthing canal, as if she were making up for lost time. Sam watched amazed as the belly contracted before his eyes and was making an effort to push down. Dean clutched at it desperately moaning horribly, but managed to smile towards the end.

“It’s a bitch, but it feels right. She’s moving…” His face paled suddenly. “This is really happening. It wasn’t supposed to go this way. I had a plan, and I was supposed to be at the best hospital in the city, and people who knew what was going on were supposed to be with me and…”  
                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                 He looked so lost during that moment of silence looking from Sam’s eyes frantically to the ceiling

Sam took one of his hands and held it tight. 

“I’m not going anywhere,” he whispered into the back of Dean's white knuckled fist. “I promise that. I’m going to be here, sticking it out with you."

Dean looked back at him, his eyes still scared but determined. He gave a nod.

“Let me get some supplies ready,” Sam said, giving the tense hand a squeeze before laying it back on his stomach.

With Dean’s instructions he found a few clean towels in a small coat closet left from when Dean attended a gym before his pregnancy. He also retrieved a pair of scissors, and some clean shoelaces from a pair of running shoes Dean never had a chance to wear. He ran into the corridor and got a mug of warm water, to clean the baby with, and a glass of cold, for Dean to sip on. He had removed Dean’s boxers and discarded them while he cleaned up the blood from the couch and placed a clean towel under his legs. As he was rushing around getting everything set and bookmarking pages on the floor, he was having Dean time his contractions. He could tell when was starting because of the noises Dean was trying so hard to stifle. It was hard for him to act like this was going to be okay. He had a terrible feeling that this was going to end badly.

“Sam…” Dean's shaky, pain filled voice called out. “They're about a minute apart. How’s that research of yours coming?”

He looked up from the book he was kneeling next to on the floor, looking at diagrams of the male birthing anatomy. He watched as Dean lowered his watch-laden wrist and tried breathing like he had been practicing in his Lamaze classes. Even then he couldn’t help thinking that he was beautiful. Sweaty, pale, and in pain, and he couldn’t even imagine being anywhere else.

“Let me check you after the next contraction…”

He didn’t even finish his sentence when Dean grit his teeth again with a whimper.

“You know what I don’t find fair about this?” Dean gasped out at the end of another contraction. “The father doesn’t even know.”

Sam stood up and began to position himself near Dean’s lower half.

“It was a one time deal at a bar,” he continued. “He was cute, we were drunk and we went to my place. I…I don’t even know his last name. Cas I think was his first.”

Sam listened carefully, but was in the process of bending and spreading Dean’s legs to check the birthing canal.

“I’m going through this because of him…and he doesn’t know!” He spit out a cruel laugh. “How fucked up is that?”

Sam didn’t know what to say, “I’m sorry.”

“I chose to keep it. This is my fault.”

Sam was about to retort when another obvious contraction hit this time causing Dean to lurch upright.

“I need to…push!”

Fear flooded Sam at the tone Dean took on and how frantic the other's breathing had become.

Dean managed to push through five contractions. Sam watched as Dean’s opening began to slowly widen, and a little blood seeped out. Dean flopped backwards once it ended and gasped deeply.

“How’s it…look…down there?” he panted through closed eyes.

“Let me check. I’m going inside to see if I feel anything, don’t tense up.”

Dean nodded quickly as if to say ‘get it over with.’

Sam, barely had his fingers fully into Dean’s canal when he felt a hard surface pressing back. The insertion caused another contraction from Dean’s cervix.

“Out!” he grunted grabbing his stomach and curling forward letting go on another long and hard push. Sam barely had time to remove his fingers.

Towards the end of this one Dean’s groan became a scream and he tried to continue pushing even after the contraction ended. He took a quick breath and started up again. Sam realized that Dean was panicking, and the blood began to rush again. He stopped for another quick breath and had started up again without any contraction prompting him to. He was wearing himself out. He just stayed curled forward hugging his belly pushing and pushing and pushing…

“Hey!” Sam rushed to Dean’s face and took it in one of his palms, while the other tried to gently push him back to rest. “Dean, Dean! Stop, you need to stop and breathe. Look at me!”

Dean had just gasped and tried to continue.

“Need it out. She’s dying…she’s going…” he gasped and he was forced to stop as Sam tried to keep him down. He was in hysterics now. “She’s not…moving…I…I can’t…”

“Hey, lookit me. You need to calm down and breathe. We’re going to do this together. I’m going to count to ten, only to ten, and you’ll push only on a contraction. Otherwise you’re just hurting yourself and your baby. Okay?” Dean gave a slight nod, trying to calm himself by taking Sam’s hand. “I’m going to move you a little to make this a little easier for you.”

He pulled the pregnant man into a better sitting position and spread his legs incredibly wide. He was beginning to see the bulge of a head beginning to crown.

“Argh…it’s burning…have to…” Dean gasped as he began to push, this time with a contraction.

“Ok,” Sam said holding the hand again. “One, two, three…”

At “ten” he made sure Dean stopped, then went to check on the baby’s progress.

Dean barely had time to breath before he launched himself forward. The baby was crowning. Sam let go of the hand and went to pull his legs apart a bit more, counting to ten once again. Dean stopped but then quickly started again, without a contraction but because of the burning pain as the head stuck at it’s widest diameter. Sam was trying to protest. The ring of muscle was tearing slightly. It made him sick to watch, but Dean was beyond listening. He watched as the ears appeared and in a gush of pressure the head was free, and Dean fell back.

“The head’s out!” Sam cried excitedly. “Almost done. You’re amazing, Dean!”

The older man was weak and exhausted, but he smiled as his head rested back on the armrest.  “Thanks…for…being…here…Sasquatch….”

Another contraction took hold but he couldn’t bring himself to push for some reason. Sam took notice because worry filled Dean’s face.

“It’s alright. Your body will do the work. The book says you can ride out a few contractions and rest.”

Dean clenched his eyes shut and nodded. He rode out a few more before he found strength to do anything other than breathe. Sam noticed this weakness and was immediately worried. He was bleeding down by the birth canal but it wasn’t gushing or anything. It was mainly under control so he got up and climbed behind Dean, gave a quick kiss to his forehead, and reached his long arms over to pull his knees to his chest.

“Push!” he urged as he felt a shudder of a contraction appear, and somewhere Dean found the strength to do just that. “Good boy, that’s it!”

“Sammy!” Dean had to stop as the contraction ended.

“Those are just the shoulders. Once those are out, it’s finished. Your baby’s here.”

Dean couldn’t say anything, his eyes were blurring and a rushing was in his ears as he awaited the next pain.

“Almost. One, two, three…”

Dean fell back against Sam, completely spent at this point. His breathing now was almost double Sam’s normal rate. His heart was pounding trying to send oxygen to all parts of his body. He couldn’t feel his legs anymore, and his arms were just limp appendages to him. He had to stop, he just wanted to sleep…it was just that constant burning…it wouldn’t stop, meaning he couldn’t.

Sam noticed this, and also noticed the towel between Dean’s legs was much redder than when he’d left it…

“Shit!” he swore quickly moving out from behind the man he had come to love so quickly. “Dean, look at me!”

Sam grabbed another towel from the floor, but didn’t know what to do with it. The baby was still grotesquely sticking out halfway from Dean’s lower half. He needed to get it out in order to stop the bleeding.

“Dean!” The older man’s eyes peeled open slowly. “You keep looking at me! You’re almost done.”

“Can’t…” he gasped. How didn’t he notice the blue tint to his lips? Shit! “Can’t…”

“You and you’re baby will die if you don’t.” Sam was frantic but those words weren’t. “You need to give me one last push. I’m going to help you, just try.”

Dean didn’t have much of a choice as his body contracted one more time. He couldn’t bring himself forward anymore but did manage a small push out of it. Sam lay across his belly pressing hard trying to add more pressure to get the baby out. He knew it had to hurt but he was running out of options. Sure enough the baby was released just enough for Sam to get a good grip and pull when the next contraction started. It seemed weaker than the others and Dean didn’t even try and push that time but it was enough for Sam to pull the baby free in a rush of amniotic fluids…and a lot of blood. Dean must’ve been bleeding internally as well.

Miraculously Dean’s eyes were still open when Sam looked up and announced proudly, “It’s a girl!” Both couldn’t stop their small smiles. She was so tiny.

Dean gave a slight nod of his head, ‘I told you so.’

Sam quickly tied off and cut the cord, when he realized “She’s not breathing…”

 He put his mouth to her little mouth and nose and sucked out any fluid before spitting it out. With the airways clear he turned her over and gave her a few light pats like the book recommended, but still nothing. He put an ear to her chest listening for a beat…nothing. He gently rubbed at her chest trying to get a rise. Nothing… He then began infant CPR that was diagrammed and recommended as a last resort. Pressing on her chest with his giant fingers he tried to get her heart to restart, and pressing his mouth to her nose and mouth he tried to get he to start breathing. She was getting cold…and her color wasn’t changing. He glanced at the clock, it had been 8 minutes…and Dean was still bleeding out.

He quickly laid her beside Dean whose eyes were looking for his baby. How could someone be so pale?

“She’s…” Sam had to stop and swallow. “It’s not your fault. I tried to get her to…she’s gone…”

Dean looked down and with a shaky hand brushed her cheek before he lost control of it and let it fall back to his side.

Then he looked at Sam as if it were his first time seeing him.

“She’s…yours,” he gasped. If he had the energy tears would’ve been present, but he couldn’t. He was done. “My girl…and…my Sammy’s…”

Then suddenly everything in the room got deadly quiet, as Sam took to pressing bunched up towels to Dean’s birth canal trying to stop the bleeding. Tears were clouding his eyes so he didn’t immediately notice that less and less blood was seeping through. What he took to be a good sign was only the opposite. He looked up hoping to see Dean’s eyes on his, when he noticed that the man was slumped over, eyes closed, not breathing.

“No, no, no no…” he muttered rushing to begin CPR on the older man. He couldn’t lose both of them. He administered five compressions and three breaths, then five compressions and three breaths, over and over and over until he couldn’t stand anymore. Until he fell to his knees, lightheaded, next to the bloodied couch.

“No, no, no, no…”

He couldn’t see through the tears, couldn’t breathe through the sobs…it wasn’t worth it.

He didn’t know how long he stayed like that, crying into Dean’s cold hand, but he noticed when the sun began to send shadows from the blinds into the room. Another day. People would arrive for work in a few hours and find the scene exactly like this. They would find them too late. All because of a stupid Good Samaritan act to stop a ghost from killing his coworkers. All of this to burn two stupid gloves someone decided to keep. Well, Sandover managed to take two more lives that night.

It wasn’t fair…

Sam sat up straight hearing a strange noise come from behind him. It sounded like a rush of wind with a rustle of…feathers? Slowly he turned, still on his knees, passing a hand over his tear stained eyes.

“Found your cell phones.”

A middle aged balding man stood before him in a well-tailored business suit. He placed both of the men’s cell phones on the desk.

“Who are you?” he growled. How dare he stand there and smirk at them like that.

“Come on, Sammy. Don’tcha recognize me?” he asked in a light carefree tone as he took a few steps forward. “Here, maybe this’ll help.” Without Sam being able to move out of his reach he placed his fingers on the boy’s forehead and the memories came back in a painful flash.

He was Sam Winchester, younger brother to Dean Winchester. They grew up hunting demons, and were currently in the middle of the apocalypse. He got Dean pregnant after a random drunken night, with a little help from…somewhere…Oh and, all except one, angels were dicks.

“Zachariah!” he growled. “You did this!”

“Guilty, but I have to say that I think Sandover and you did that.” He pointed at Dean’s still form and let out a low whistle. “Boy did he suffer…”

“Why?”

“You two needed to know where your places lie. We need you to do a job, and you _will_ do it.” Zachariah wouldn’t let that shit eating grin falter. “No matter how many times you two tell yourselves you can run away from this, you’re still going to end up doing exactly what you were born to do.”

Sam didn’t blink.

“Fix him! You fix them right now! Put this right!” He was crying again, on the verge of sobbing. Now with his memories back it felt like he’d lost them all over again.

Zacharias’ face hardened.

“Well you know that I can’t let Michael’s vessel just die, just like I can’t let Lucifer’s. We need you both.”

He blinked and next thing Sam knew Dean was coughing beside him. The blood was gone, his color was back and he was definitely alive.

“The little hairless ape I’ll bring back solely as a reminder of how…lenient, we angels can be, but…you will lose her in the end.”

Then the first cries of their newborn were heard as she punched and kicked in the cold air.

Dean was blinking up at the angel in confusion and loathing.

“Just don’t you forget that it’s your destiny. Always has been, always will be. You can’t change that.”

Then with another rustle of wind and unseen wings the three Winchesters were transported back to the last run down hotel they had stopped at. Dean was laying on the bed with the baby tucked next to him with Sam still on his knees at his side, their hands still gripping each other tight.

They blinked at each other before Sam rushed into action grabbing a blanket and swaddling their little newborn. She was small but her lungs were working and her color was good. He handed her to his older brother who was still staring at her in shock.

“How do you feel?” Sam asked tentatively as he watched Dean grimace when he pulled himself up to hold her securely. He put his little finger in her mouth and she began to suck.

“A little sore but much better considering…I died?”

“Yea…” Sam whispered standing and looking lost.

Dean saw this and motioned for him to lay down with him and their new daughter.

“C’mere,” he mumbled, and Sam wrapped himself around his new family.

“She needs a name,” Dean whispered, she was quietly looking up with big baby blue eyes watching them study her. They had already started to turn Dean's shade of green.

“We’ll get to that,” Sam mumbled pressing his face into Dean’s shirt and one hand on their baby, trying so hard to tell himself that both were really there. “She’s a month early…just let me hold you two for a minute.”

Dean didn’t say anything, just turned to give his brother a light kiss. Then he snuggled up against the strong warm figure behind him. He hummed his favorite Zeppelin tune while feeling his brothers breathing slow, and his little girl fall asleep. He smiled, because for a minute the apocalypse was far from his mind.

Right now it was a wonderful life.

**Author's Note:**

> This was the first mpreg fic I'd ever written. I edited it slightly before posting it.


End file.
